Windows
by Nicolette C-137
Summary: Human AU. "Bob liked the version of Edward that could only be seen through windows." (SpongeBob SquarePants x Squidward TentaclePorn)


**Disclaimer: I do not own SpongeBob SquarePants or any of the following characters.**

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 **Chapter 1**

Bob peeked out of the window above the stove, which overlooked the dining area of the Krusty Krab, allowing him to see whatever Edward was up to at any given moment. Right now, the stoic cashier happened to be flipping absently through a magazine. Bob went back to cleaning his station, praying for the arrival of a new customer. It was a slow day, much to his disappointment. Not that he minded the way it dragged on, but he actually enjoyed flipping burgers—more than one would expect—and hadn't received many orders. Edward, on the other hand, grew impatient on such slow days; though he despised interacting with customers. If he wasn't so lazy—and if he could grill a burger half as decently as his co-worker—he'd have kept Bob's job, because he'd have been more comfortable in the back with the patties, than out here with all these people; who would've preferred to see Bob's smiling face, but would also much rather eat his cooking. It was a double-edged sword: If you wanted good food, you'd have to deal with the shitty service.

When closing-time finally rolled around, Edward was relieved to be able to go home and play his clarinet. Maybe he'd even pour himself a glass of wine and run himself a bubble bath. He was thinking just that, when...

"Got any plans tonight, Edward?" Bob cooed, suddenly leaning against the opposite side of the counter.

"Besides avoiding you at all costs?" Edward quipped, locking the cash register.

"Yes." Bob grabbed his leather jacket from the coat rack, and zipped it up over his Polo and Khakis; probably thinking it made him look badass, or something, even though he was about as naive and innocent—not to mention, immature—as a child. There was already a ten-year difference between them, but it may as well have been twenty. Bob was even rather boyish-looking—with chubby, pink-tinted, lightly-freckled, cheeks—while Edward had resorted to shaving his head, due to premature balding.

"See you, tomorrow!" Their redheaded, money-hungry boss, called from his office.

"Bye, Mr. Krabs!" Edward flinched at the volume of Bob's voice, and grimaced at the sheer exuberance of it. Sometimes, Edward wondered if Bob only had so much energy, because he drained it from the people around him. "So," Bob started, catching up to Edward in the parking lot, "wanna hang out for a while? Patrick is away for the weekend." Edward wished he could tell Bob to just get lost, but unfortunately the blonde was not only Edward's co-worker, but next-door neighbor. They'd walk together, every Monday through Saturday, to and from the Krusty Krab, where Edward would spend ten hours with Bob, and not even be able to escape the nuisance in the sanctity of his own home. Bob always kept him up at night with loud noises, called him for no apparent reason, and came over whenever Edward stepped outside. Bob had crawled under Edward's skin, and decided to stay there; haunting every facet of Edward's life; even his dreams. "We could drink some wine, watch TV—"

"I don't want to hang out with you, Bob." Edward didn't need to look at Bob's face to see its crushed expression; he could see it in his mind. He'd seen that expression a thousand times.

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Bob had been packing away his belongings into cardboard boxes, when he heard the familiar sound of clarinet music being played. He wandered toward open window, which was parallel to Edward's; allowing Bob to see straight into his neighbor's house, where the starving artist could be seen wailing on his instrument. Bob rested an elbow on the window sill, and his cheek against his palm; eyelids drooping as he watched and listened. Bob liked the version of Edward that could only be seen through windows.

When the piece ended, and Edward finally brought the clarinet away from his lips, Bob couldn't help but clap. Edward's head snapped toward him, eyebrows furrowing. "Encore!" Bob exclaimed, trying to lighten the mood; and because he wouldn't have minded hearing Edward play another piece. The older man merely stomped over to the window and closed the curtains, though.

No more sounds could be heard after that.


End file.
